VSM03 - Death Among Fitful Shadows by Baker Blythe

Author:Baker, Blythe [Baker, Blythe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 498, cThriller, amazon-kindle
Amazon: B0BJ9M5VQN
Published: 2022-11-14T23:00:00+00:00

9

“Madam, it has been some time since you have been to Kensington, has it not?” Warrington asked as we made our way through the streets inside a hired carriage. “I believe it was Master Daniel’s birthday when you last visited your cousin in her home.”

“I believe it was,” I said. “And that was nearly two months ago now, wasn’t it?”

I stared out the window at the dark streets passing by, the orbs of light inside the street lamps creating narrow pools of warmth and comfort on the cobbles as we trundled along.

“It is quite astounding how quickly time seems to be moving…” I murmured.

Daniel hiccupped in my lap and then proceeded to giggle at his own sound.

I smiled down at the infant. “Well, at least someone seems to be enjoying himself,” I said, handing him over to his nurse, who sat across from me. It had been kind of my cousin to include Daniel in her invitation, as ordinarily, I would not have brought him to such an event.

I shifted my attention back to Warrington. “There is such a chill outside tonight. I am glad I did not allow you to ride up top with the driver.”

Warrington shifted uncomfortably. “If you say so, madam.”

“I do say so,” I said firmly. “I am glad that you feel recovered enough to lend an extra hand tonight, as my cousin is a little short of staff, but it would be foolish of you to strain yourself so soon after your recovery.”

“Thank you, madam,” he said. “But it is difficult to imagine what I could possibly do to overexert myself at a dinner party.”

“Do not forget how we were doing nothing more than going to speak to shopkeepers just some weeks ago, when you were attacked,” I reminded him.

“That was when we were pursuing a killer,” he said. “You are doing no such thing now. A thief is hardly a murderer.”

“Yes, but I wonder how many murderers begin their careers as thieves,” I said.

The carriage began to slow to a stop. Out the window, I saw guests making their way to a dinner party. The sidewalk was filled with couples following the path toward my cousin’s townhome.

Kensington was a great deal like Mayfair, though the streets were slightly straighter and wider than where I lived. The houses themselves were impressive, each constructed from the same façade of white limestone. But instead of the deep, red brick of my home, my cousin’s house was built from a lovely golden hued brick, as if the building had been washed in rich honey.

Our driver brought the carriage to a stop and was quickly at my door, his hand extended to help me down.

We were not the only stopped carriage; others were crowding the street, couples disembarking, flooding as once toward the open front doors of my cousin’s home.

It seemed that every light in the house was lit, pouring from the windows out into the shadowed streets and sidewalks. It reminded me of a Christmas painting, everything so cheery and bright.

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